


ain't it a gentle sound

by cabinfever



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bottom Shiro (Voltron), Desk Sex, M/M, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-25
Updated: 2018-09-25
Packaged: 2019-07-17 07:11:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16090622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cabinfever/pseuds/cabinfever
Summary: It’s such a simple thing to request, in the grand scheme of things. Shiro’s considered it often, playing out the quiet conversation in bed where he asks Keith if he can bottom for a change. Simple as that. Keith would say yes, of course. That’s not the hard part.Shiro learns how to ask for what he wants.





	ain't it a gentle sound

**Author's Note:**

> title from "nfwmb" by hozier.

Shiro loves Keith. That’s a given on any day, at any moment, and in any reality. He does. He counts himself lucky to have him at every opportunity. 

And the sex is good. It’s really, really good. 

Keith’s just the right brand of demanding that’s endearing, and Shiro loves giving him exactly what he wants. Keith rewards him for it by looking so pretty as he rides Shiro, and for letting Shiro mark bruises along his hips and thighs. He wouldn’t trade that for the world; he always wants to make Keith happy, and to keep hearing how wrecked his voice gets when he moans Shiro’s name.

But, well.

Shiro can’t help but wonder if he can add something else to the deal.

He’s wondering if Keith will help him with that.

In his younger days, Shiro had taken a lover or two to bed, back when he was eager and skinny and too excitable for his own good. They’d all been good to him, and they’d all told him his was beautiful, and they’d all taken him with tenderness and with force and with everything in between. 

Over the years, that changed. Shiro ended up too bulky, too big, and too strong to be manhandled. He doesn’t mind that he’s big now, of course, but he misses the way that others used to push him around and force him into the sheets. 

And since settling down with Keith, he’s not really had the chance to be anything other than the top, because Keith just sort of assumed that was the way things were going, and Shiro didn’t stop him. Shiro’s the one doing the manhandling and the forcing and he’s the one who buries his love for Keith inside him, worshipping Keith in every way he deserves and more. He loves him. He loves it.

Maybe it could change. Just a bit.

It’s such a simple thing to request, in the grand scheme of things. Shiro’s considered it often, playing out the quiet conversation in bed where he asks Keith if he can bottom for a change. Simple as that. Keith would say yes, of course. That’s not the hard part.

But how does he convey the exact way he wants Keith to do it?

It’s tentative at first. He’d been good at his science courses at the academy, and he knows how to conduct an experiment. This is just a test of another sort, feeling out the limits of what Keith’s willing to do with him.  _ To  _ him.

He lets Keith hold him down by the wrists and order him not to touch as he rides Shiro like he’s born to do it. When he struggles, Keith tightens his grip, forcing him down, and Shiro experiences the brief euphoria of being controlled.

The next time, he maybe accidentally-on-purpose lets out the most excited moan of Keith’s name when Keith’s finger wanders tentatively backwards during a blowjob. Keith’s lips curl into a grin around him, and he moves his unlubricated finger away instead of daring to push in where Shiro wants him, but Shiro gets the idea that maybe he’s starting to catch on.

Things reach a breaking point when they spar.

Their sessions are nothing short of magical. Shiro loves the creative rhythm of fighting Keith more than nearly anything else. There’s no danger and no real threat, and without weapons, it’s easy to forget about the weapon he was forged into during his time away from Earth. Keith makes fighting fun again.

It’s harder to pin Shiro now that he’s got the new arm. There’s one less limb to grab and tug and incapacitate, so Keith has to get creative. He does, of course, because he’s Keith and he’s fifteen types of lethal force wrapped up in a single body.

Shiro also kind of lets him do it.

“Gotcha,” Keith singsongs in his ear. He pulls at Shiro’s human arm, twisting it further, and Shiro gasps.

Another adjustment to the hold, and Keith’s on top of him with a leg between both of Shiro’s, and-

Well.

It’s difficult to disguise how hard he is.

“You’re excited,” Keith says in his ear. There’s mischief in his tone, lilting and light, and he tightens the hold just a little bit. It’s enough to make Shiro gasp and rock his hips down onto Keith, and Keith says, “Interesting.”

Shiro likes that tone.

Keith stalks into Shiro’s home office later, sweeping through their quarters and tossing his Garrison jacket onto the nearest surface as he enters. “Shiro.”

Shiro looks up from his work, running his hand through his hair. “You’re back early.”

“Yeah, well.” Keith stops at the edge of the desk and leans over it, pressing his hands into the hard surface. He looms over Shiro at this height, and Shiro can’t deny the little thrill he gets from it when he looks up to meet his eyes. “I had things I wanted to do.”

“Like?”

“You let me pin you,” Keith accuses. He’s not angry, though; there’s a little smirk growing on his face as he perches on Shiro’s desk, roughly untying the laces on his boots. “That’s not a very advisable strategy, Commander.”

“My desk, Keith. Really?”

Keith stares at him for a long moment, expression unchanging, and lifts his foot, planting it squarely on the shining surface of the desk. “You’re deflecting.” He continues his work on his laces. “Why’d you let me do it?”

“Who says I need a reason?” Shiro asks instead. His heart thrums out a little nervous staccato. 

Absently, Keith, wraps a lace around one of his fingers, studying Shiro with dark violet eyes. He seems to decide something, and announces, “You’re antsy. You want something.”

“I have no idea what you mean.”

“I think you do.”

Shiro looks up and meets Keith’s piercing eyes. He shrugs. “Maybe I do. Maybe I don’t.”

With a sigh that could convince any lesser man that Keith has suffered all his life, Keith rolls his eyes. “Shiro,” he says, and he stands, tossing his boots aside on the floor. “C’mere.”

Shiro sighs and sets his work aside, but he comes to Keith without regrets, staring down at him with his eyebrows raised. “Keith?” he asks.

Keith frowns at him and asks, “Do you want me to fuck you?”

It sounds so blunt when he puts it like that, but at the end of the day, that’s exactly what Shiro wants. So he nods.

So maybe it’s just that easy.

“Well, why didn’t you say so?” Keith asks, reaching a hand up to cup the side of Shiro’s face.

Shiro shrugs, tilting his head towards the touch. Keith’s nails, just on the right edge of Galra-sharp, scratch lightly at his cheekbone as a reward. “Things were going well the way they were. I like making you happy.”

“Okay, yeah, Shiro, but this is a community effort. It’s not all about me, y’know?” Keith runs his hands up Shiro’s sides, eyebrows creasing in his concern. “I want you enjoying yourself too.”

“I do,” Shiro protests. “I am. Every time. All the time.”

“That’s a start.” Keith’s hands move to the buttons on his jacket, opening them one by one. He’s slow about it, gentle in a way he wasn’t with his own boots. Shiro’s mouth goes dry, and he stares at the way Keith’s nimble fingers work through their task. Keith lets him watch for a moment before prompting, “Shiro.”

He looks up, meeting Keith’s eyes. “Keith.”

Keith steps closer, and Shiro moves back, and his back hits a solid surface. The wall. Keith’s got him cornered, and that alone has him shifting uncomfortably, desperate to adjust to accommodate his growing arousal. Lowly, with the barest hint of a growl, Keith says, “Tell me what you want.”

“You.”

“Okay. Go on.” Keith reaches down and palms Shiro through his pants with clear intent, and Shiro’s eyelids flutter for a moment at the blessed contact. “How do you want me?”

Shiro swallows. He shrugs out of his shirt to distract himself, stalling for time, but Keith’s violet eyes don’t leave him. There’s no escaping this, and he’s not sure he wants to. “In me,” he says softly.

Keith smiles, and though the expression is soft, his eyes grow just a little bit darker. “Keep going,” he says.

This is his chance.

Shiro takes a deep breath and says, “God, Keith, I want you to fuck me so that I’ll feel it for days.”

So he’s said it.

Keith studies him for a moment, considering him. “Turn around,” he says at last.

It’s not a suggestion.

It’s an order.

He must hesitate, though, because Keith blinks and says, “Shiro, babe, if you want this, I can take care of you. D’you want this?” He rubs his hands up Shiro’s chest. His fingers skitter lightly over the scars there. They’re not demanding, just soothing, and Shiro closes his eyes to collect himself for a moment. Keith knows all the right things to do to calm him down and key him up all at once.

As he turns, he asks, “What is this?”

“You’re gonna stand there,” Keith says from behind him, reaching around to unbuckle his uniform pants for him, “and you’re going to let me pin you again.”

Shiro’s heart does the most elaborate series of leaps. He whines, “Yes.”

“Already desperate,” Keith says with a laugh. “This is going to be fun, Shiro.” He pulls down Shiro’s pants, and his underwear as well. Shiro shivers at the touch of the cold air, but Keith ducks and presses a warm kiss to the base of his spine, and that’s enough to keep him going. 

They keep lube in the most trafficked areas of their quarters. Keith strips and retrieves the bottle from Shiro’s desk and slicks up his fingers, warming the lube between his fingers. The sound of it makes Shiro shiver with anticipation. This is happening. 

Keith steps up behind him, pressing his chest to Shiro’s back. He reaches down, running a finger over Shiro’s entrance, listening for Shiro’s shuddering sigh. The other hand holds on tightly to Shiro’s shoulder, pushing him forward against the wall, and he murmurs, “Here we go,” in Shiro’s ear. 

When it comes to opening Keith up, they’ve got it down to a science. They’ve gotten adventurous with it, even. Shiro knows exactly what gets Keith going, and how to make him beg. The only one here who knows how to work with Shiro is Shiro himself, but he decides to let Keith take the lead on this. Keith will know what to do.

He does.

The first finger is easy enough. Shiro’s taken his own fingers enough times in the shower or when Keith’s away on missions, and his are bigger than Keith’s anyway. Keith murmurs soft encouragements against his shoulder as he goes, though, taking his time. When he finally adds the second one, pressing in slowly, it’s exactly like he’d hoped it’d be.

Shiro sighs and rolls his hips down onto Keith’s fingers on instinct. God, it feels good.

“Shiro,” Keith reprimands sharply, and he bites down on Shiro’s shoulder muscle.

Hard.

“Told you to hold still,” he murmurs.

Shiro groans, presses his forehead against the wall, and keeps as still as he can. His legs tremble a bit, but he stays strong. He can do this. For Keith. 

“Hey, hey, hey.” Keith kisses over the bite, soothing the ache with the slide of his tongue. “You’re doing so well. I’ve got you.”

He does. With one hand inside Shiro and the other roaming around his body, he’s everywhere. 

Where he’s not is anywhere near Shiro’s cock.

He can’t help it; he shifts forward, desperate for some meager friction against the wall. For a moment, it’s perfect pressure, and he sighs, trying to adjust his hips to get a better angle, but one of Keith’s hands plants itself firmly on his stomach and hauls him backwards with surprising force. Shiro gasps in surprise, and he readjusts his footing, spreading his legs to accommodate the change. Keith keeps his hand there, holding him away from the wall. 

“Keith,” Shiro begs. He needs to be touched, he needs it-

“Shiro, babe, can’t you just let me take care of you?” Keith murmurs against his skin. “Can you be patient for me?”

Again, Shiro tries, “Keith.”

“Shiro.” Keith kisses him on the cheek, sweet and soft, and twists his fingers. Shiro lets out a sharp breath, scrabbling ineffectually at the wall, and Keith laughs. It’s soft and breathless and musical, and of course he knows exactly what he’s doing. “Gotta get you ready. I want you to enjoy this.”

“Right.” Shiro tries to hold himself still, and Keith rewards him with a few slow, deliberate strokes of his cock. He presses his head against the wall and tries to focus on how good it feels, and how Keith’s still holding him back even though he’s not exerting any force. “Like that,” he murmurs, resisting the urge to thrust forward into the loose circle of Keith’s fingers. “Just like that, babe.”

He can practically feel Keith glowing under the praise. “Wanna take good care of you the way you take care of me.” He adds another finger slowly. When Shiro moans, he sinks in to the next knuckle. “Make you feel good. Do you feel good?”

Shiro nods frantically. He’s panting open-mouthed with the side of his face pressed up against the wall, probably drooling all over it too. He’s never going to be able to look at this wall the same way again, and thank god for that. If he could always remember this moment just at a glance, he thinks he could die happy.

He can feel how hard Keith is against him, and how much he wants this too, and that has him breathing out a curse too, because that means Keith wants this as badly as he does. 

The limits of his self control are fast approaching the longer that Keith works on him.

“Keith, Keith  _ please,  _ I’m ready, please-” He’s babbling and he knows it, but this is everything he’s ever hoped for and more. If this is how worked up he gets on Keith’s fingers, he needs-

“Tell me what you want,” Keith reminds him, scissoring his fingers, and Shiro nearly sobs.

Usually he’s not the one begging, but the words fall easily from his lips. “Your cock, Keith, please-”

Keith withdraws his fingers, nearly forcing another whine from Shiro, but then he takes Shiro by the hips and turns him around, forcing him back against the wall. He reaches up with his clean hand, holding Shiro by the back of the head, and brings him down for a kiss that Shiro gladly reciprocates. He steps between Shiro’s spread legs, letting himself be bracketed, and uses his other hand to stroke both of them together. This time, it’s him who makes a desperate sound into the air they share. His hips rut forward in search of friction that he finds with Shiro. “You ready?” he asks breathlessly against Shiro’s lips.

“I’m ready,” Shiro promises. He’s never been more ready for anything in his life.

“Here we go,” Keith says, and there’s that gleam in his eyes again. Effortlessly, he scoops Shiro up and presses him against the wall, holding him up by his thighs and urging Shiro’s legs around him. 

Shiro’s heart thuds in his chest. He’s pretty sure he gets harder, but he’s not sure how that’s possible. “How are you-”

“Galra.” Keith grins, face flushed and shadowed by his unruly hair, and Shiro shivers at the sight of his too-sharp teeth. “Perks.”

Shiro leans in to kiss him, and he gets a taste of the iron and salt that he always finds when Keith’s alien heritage makes an appearance. He runs his hands up and down Keith’s arms, groaning when he finds the tense, unyielding strength in the muscles there. This is what he wanted. This is what he’s needed. Keith’s holding him like it’s nothing. “God, Keith, please, I need you,” he breathes, and as if in agreement, his cock pulses where it’s trapped against his stomach, dribbling out a bit of precome against his skin.

Keith’s predator-dark eyes focus on that immediately, and he lets go of Shiro with one arm -  _ god,  _ he’s strong - and reaches between them to run his thumb through the growing mess on Shiro’s stomach. He brings his finger to his lips, licking it pensively, and then says, “Anything you want, Shiro.”

“Keith,” Shiro begs.

Keith obeys, because it’s hard for him to say no to Shiro and Shiro knows that. He hoists Shiro carefully between his body and the wall, reaches down one-handed between them, and lines up his cock with Shiro’s lube-slick entrance. Slowly, he brings Shiro down onto him, huffing out a breath against Shiro’s neck. “Fuck,” he rasps. “Shiro, you-”

“This is the best thing you’ve ever done in your life,” Shiro swears, leaning his head back against the wall, and he curses as Keith thrusts up shallowly into him. 

“Better than saving your life?”

“That was just foreplay for this.”

Keith laughs and readjusts his grip on Shiro’s thighs, leaning forward to tuck his head into the crook of his neck. He kisses right above Shiro’s pulse, tenderly enough that Shiro shivers, and begins to move in earnest. He’s not as big as Shiro, but he fills him so well that Shiro whines with every thrust. 

“I’ve dreamed of this for ages, Shiro. You know how much I’ve thought about all the things I’d do to you if I had the chance?”

Shiro rolls his hips down, trying to get some friction for his cock against Keith’s belly. He shakes his head; he can’t think of how to reply. Keith compliments him too much.

“Always loved you,” Keith continues. “Never thought I’d ever be lucky enough to fuck you. Fuck, it was enough of a reward to have you inside me-”

“Keith,” Shiro moans, and that shuts Keith up, and he nips at Shiro’s collarbone before redoubling his efforts, picking up speed until all Shiro knows is the burning, sparking pleasure in his stomach and the rhythmic sound of their bodies coming together. “Keith,  _ fuck,  _ baby, please, I need it, I need more.” He clings to Keith’s shoulders, holding on tightly while Keith drives up into him with such force that he slides up the wall a bit and Keith rises up on his toes. 

Shiro moans and digs his fingers into the muscles on Keith’s back, scraping up towards his shoulders in a desperate attempt to find an anchor. He wants to leave marks there that’ll last for days, aching in lines alongside Keith’s Galra stripes so he remembers what they did. All he knows is the way Keith’s forcing him up against the wall, working out the day’s aggression on his body.

He wants more.

“I know you can do more than that,” Shiro breathes. He’s pushing his luck, but he’s felt Keith’s raw strength before. He knows what it’s like to be forced to the edge by inhuman ability that no prosthetic can hope to match, and he wants that. He needs Keith to give him everything. “Keith, fuck me - I know you’re the black paladin but I need you to  _ show me.” _

Keith nearly snarls in his ear, cursing out something like Shiro’s name and then a word he must have learned with the Blades, feral and Galra and beautiful. He steps back a bit, letting Shiro slide down the wall, and then holds Shiro even tighter by the hips, using his new leverage to thrust up with a force he’s not yet used.

Shiro cries out wordlessly, driven past the point of coherence, and lets Keith pound into him. His back drags and scrapes against the wall with every thrust, and Shiro welcomes the cool burn of the friction. It’s perfect.

This is perfect.

“You feel so good, Shiro, d’you know that?” Keith asks, and his voice slips into something rougher and lower. He’s never gotten quite like this, and now the low drawl of his upbringing comes out, and the next time he says something, it’s the barest hint of  _ darlin’  _ that has Shiro crying out. “God, why didn’t we do this sooner?”

Shiro shakes his head, panting into the warm air of the office.

Keith keeps going. It’s like he’s not even getting tired. Shiro revels in Keith’s impossible strength, wrapping his legs tighter around his waist to keep him closer. He could come like this, and  _ god,  _ he wants him, but his impulses get the better of him, and he collects his thoughts enough to beg, “Put me down.”

Keith’s brow furrows, and he holds Shiro close for a moment, chest heaving as he processes Shiro’s request. Shiro lets out a soft moan when he feels Keith twitch inside him, heavy and hot and perfect. But Keith obeys and lifts Shiro up carefully off of him and lowers him to the ground.

Shiro mourns the sudden emptiness, and he almost immediately wants to ask Keith to just continue the way they’d been going. But he places his hands in Keith’s hair, wrapping long strands around his fingers, and urges, “Back.”

This time, Keith lets himself be moved, pulling Shiro’s head down for a kiss while Shiro walks him backwards towards the edge of his desk. When the backs of his legs hit the edge, Keith gets the hint and climbs up on the desk without skipping a beat. Again, Shiro’s thankful for his athleticism, and he urges Keith down onto the shining glass, kissing him the whole way down. Data pads clatter to the floor, joining their clothes. 

“Your desk,” Keith says, bemused and breathless. 

“Don’t care.” Shiro ignores all of the mess and instead climbs up on the desk too, kneeling above Keith and holding him down with his metal fingers curling gently around the bared column of Keith’s neck.

He’s going to do a little bit of the work. 

Keith’s hands rise on instinct to grip his hips, and something wicked gleams in his lust-darkened eyes. “There you go, babe,” he murmurs. “How pretty you look like that, ready to ride me.” One of his hands trails back to Shiro’s entrance, and he slips two fingers in easily. “Thought about this for a while too,” he says conversationally, curling his fingers just right.

Shiro’s cock twitches, drooling out some more precome onto Keith’s stomach. “Keith,” he breathes. He’s not sure when it became a prayer.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?”

Shiro lets his eyes slip shut and focuses on Keith’s fingers inside of him. “Please,” he whispers. 

Keith laughs, and the hand on his hip grips him tighter. The fingers inside Shiro explore for a moment longer, gauging Shiro’s responses by the quiet sounds he makes in response. They’re removed again, far too soon, and Keith slicks himself up with some more of the lube and murmurs, “Get on with it, gorgeous.”

That’s a command if he’s ever heard one. Shiro sinks back down on Keith’s cock, seating himself completely in one go. He’s not about to be slow about this right now. 

This angle seems to drive Keith even deeper into him, if that’s even possible. Shiro hums and ducks his head to kiss Keith, rolling his hips in shallow, slow movements that have him burning. The brief respite took the edge off of his desperation, but now he wants to finish more than ever. He takes another moment to adjust before he rises up on his knees, almost entirely coming off of Keith’s cock before he sits back down again.

Keith moans, rough and wrecked, and pulls Shiro back down again, and they set up a rhythm, working together this time, chasing their orgasms in each other’s arms.

“Anything you want, Shiro, just take it,” Keith says in a rush, digging his fingers into Shiro’s hips. His hair splays out like a halo around him, covering all of the important Garrison protocols. “God, Shiro, anything you want from me. It’s yours. It’s yours.”

“You,” Shiro hisses, increasing his pace. Keith’s hips snap up to meet his when he bears down, and it’s the perfect amount of force, knocking little moans from his throat before he can even begin to control them. Shiro squeezes his eyes shut, letting Keith hold him tightly and move him however he wants.

“Bet I could make you come on just my cock,” Keith growls, even as he wraps his fingers around Shiro and strokes him quickly, urging Shiro closer to the edge. “We can do that next time. Imagine you on your hands and knees, taking it because you need it so bad-”

“Yes,” Shiro nearly sobs, falling forward to brace his hands on either side of Keith’s head as he rises up again, only to drop back down and take Keith’s cock all the way once more. “Yes, I want that, Keith-”

Keith’s head falls back on the desk, and his eyes slip shut, hips stuttering faster up into Shiro. “Fuck,” he rasps. “Shiro!”

Shiro moans when he feels Keith come inside him, and he jerks up into Keith’s hand and follows him over the edge.

He’s shaken by the force of his own orgasm; it ripples through him in waves, tearing gasps from his lungs as he lets Keith work him through it with deft fingers. He comes on his own stomach and all over Keith’s; some of it streaks across his chest as well, standing out white against tan and Galra violet. Keith works him until Shiro whines out his name, oversensitive and shaking, and he lets his hand fall to Shiro’s thigh, holding him there.

Shiro hangs his head, trying to catch his breath. Below him, Keith stares up at the ceiling with half-lidded eyes.

His gaze slides to meet Shiro’s when he realizes he’s looking. “Hey, you,” he breathes with a smile.

“Hey yourself,” Shrio replies. He drops down so he can bracket Keith with his forearms, bending down over him to kiss him on the forehead. He noses his way past Keith’s sweaty hair and lifts his hips; they both make quiet, oversensitive sounds when Keith slips out of Shiro completely. Shiro feels wrung-out and used, but in the best way.

“That went so well,” Shiro breathes, and it turns into a laugh. 

Keith nearly giggles against him; he’s ecstatic and smug, and Shiro loves him for it. “Did it work?” he asks. “Did you get what you wanted?”

“I think I’ll feel this for a while,” Shiro promises. “In the good way.” Yeah, it’s the good way for sure; the dull ache of their love is sure to stick with him for at least a day or so. 

“We made such a mess,” Keith says, but not really in an apologetic way. He sounds absurdly delighted, actually. Now he knows why Shiro gets so happy about it. He reaches between them and swipes up some of his own come from where it’s collected on his stomach, then raises his hand towards Shiro’s face with his eyebrows raised in a silent question.

They’ve done this a million times before, but it feels special to open his mouth for Keith’s fingers, slowly licking them clean for him and watching the gleam of interest in his violet eyes. There’s approval in there too, and Shiro preens under the unspoken praise. Even after he’s taken his fingers from Shiro’s mouth, Keith still runs his thumb along the seam of Shiro’s lips, tapping his bottom lip until Shiro smiles. 

Keith’s eyes crinkle into a smile in return. “Gorgeous,” he says, and then, “Don’t blush, Shiro. It’s the truth.”

Shiro ducks down to kiss Keith instead of replying.

“We need to do this again,” Keith says into the warm air when they part. He rubs circles into Shiro’s hips, then adds, “Maybe in bed next time.”

“Probably,” Shiro agrees. As fun as this was, his knees are aching. “Thank you,” he says, and he really means it. 

“Shiro, you’re like a religious experience,” Keith tells him solemnly. “I could never say no to you.”

That’s enough to set Shiro’s cheeks afire again, and he chuckles, pressing his forehead to Keith’s to share his warmth. It’s nice like this. Easy. Familiar.

“Any other burning desires you’ve been hiding from me?” Keith asks.

Shiro grins. “I could think of a few.”

**Author's Note:**

> me in the group chat, pasting fragments of this fic as i write it: i’ve found god and its name is bottom shiro
> 
> find me on tumblr at [earthspaladins!](http://www.earthspaladins.tumblr.com)


End file.
